


Just Try It

by Koujakuba



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Hair-pulling, I am seriously very bad at titles and summaries, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, seriously holy crap, this is embarrassing but it's ok because I'm too sleepy to be embarrassed right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koujakuba/pseuds/Koujakuba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koujaku wants to try something new for Aoba, but he's nervous because it's something he's never done before and he has no idea how to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Try It

**Author's Note:**

> I am very sleepy, and this wound up being longer than I expected it to be… Oh…
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy~  
> Every view, kudos, comment, and bookmark is very much appreciated!
> 
> Also, titles are not my forte... [laughs nervously]

It’s probably weird to want to try to give a guy a blowjob when he is also, in fact, a guy. But it’s probably even weirder that that was the only thing he could think about all day. However, if it’s for Aoba, he’ll find a way to get past how mortified he felt when he thought of the idea (well, he’ll try). He can’t even say where it came from, he doesn’t have even the slightest clue—it just kind of… happened—he’s just glad he was alone when the thought forced itself into his head because he’s not sure how he’d explain why his face was even redder than his kimono.  
  
What sort of thing even brings on a thought like _“Hey, I really want to suck off Aoba today,”_ especially when being with another man is a completely new experience? It’s embarrassing.  
  
At first, he decided to forget the entire thing, no one would ever have to know, but once Aoba got to his place after his shift at Heibon, he threw that idea out the window. Aoba was already raring to go as soon as he got there—what had _he_ been thinking about all day to get him like that? Koujaku didn’t get a chance to ask because Aoba was already melding their mouths together and trying to urge him towards the bedroom, his face growing redder and hotter by the second. He didn’t actually need any coaxing though; he went along willingly.  
  
Feeling the warmth of Aoba’s body pressed against him, their mouths moving together tenderly but hungrily, their tongues caressing each other almost shyly, the airy touches wandering across the fabric of his kimono before moving on to touch his exposed chest—all of these actions helped him make his decision.  
  
He’s going to try it.  
  
Aoba collapses on his bed as soon as they enter the bedroom, pulling Koujaku down on top of him to seal their mouths together again, so eagerly thrusting his tongue back into Koujaku’s mouth. Koujaku’s hands are moving on their own, tracing along Aoba’s neck, coaxing out shivers and brushing gently against long strands of blue along the way. He considers lingering to play with Aoba’s hair some more, but, again, his hands move all on their own, eager to touch more, gliding down slowly. His thumb brushes over a nipple just under the fabric of his shirt, causing Aoba to arch into the touch and let out a soft, breathy sound trapped somewhere between irritation and approval. He’d feel annoyance about the shirt still being on, keeping him from feeling the skin he knows is already so hot and red from coyness, if Aoba’s reactions to the touches through it weren’t so satisfying.  
  
Koujaku breaks away from Aoba’s mouth, pulling away just enough to watch his face, to see all of his reactions as he lets his thumb move across the nipple again, rubbing it with a slow circular motion. Aoba arches into his touch again, his hands moving to rest against the back of Koujaku’s neck, trying to pull him closer again, trying to raise his hips enough to rub against Koujaku’s pelvis to create some kind of friction. He takes pity on his abnormally eager lover and lowers himself to grind against him. It forces him to tear his gaze away from Aoba’s face, but he decides being able to kiss and lick Aoba’s neck, suck lines of bruises into it (and get an earful for doing it) if he so desires, is enough to make up for it.  
  
The friction is good, even pulling out a breathy and soft moan of Koujaku’s name, even if it’s muted, and he can feel how hard Aoba already is through his jeans. There’s a strong desire to tease him about it, to comment on how obvious it is that Aoba wants him just as bad he needs Aoba, he’s in the same position of course, but that’s never stopped him before.  
  
“Aoba…” he breathes into the other’s ear, and, of course, this coaxes out a shiver, “you’re very eager today…” The only response he receives is a harsh exhale. He hasn’t let up teasing Aoba’s nipple, and he’s grinding against him more roughly, and his free hand has even started to caress Aoba’s thigh, but, even so, it’s not entirely the reaction he expected so he continues. “It’s really sexy… how much you want me to touch you—”  
  
"Ngh— Sh…shut up— stupid— Don’t say things like… that—” And there it is, the reaction he wanted, the one that makes him feel like Aoba’s far too cute for him to handle.  
  
And he loves it.  
  
But all of this, all the teasing is really just him trying to buy time, trying to stall long enough to let his thoughts sort themselves out and decide if he really wants to try to do what he thought of earlier. He knows it’ll bring out all sorts of adorable (and sexy) reactions from Aoba. Thinking about that spurs him toward the decision to do it. If he could just get over the waves of nervousness that keep hitting him full force, he’s going to do it.  
  
Except he has no idea how to do it.  
  
Can he really pull it off?  
  
There have been plenty of times he’s _almost_ been on the receiving end—some of the girls he’s been with have offered to do it for him, some even went ahead and tried, but he always stopped them, saying it wasn’t something they needed to do. Somehow, he just wasn’t comfortable with it. It’s just how he’s always been—always wanting to give, give, give and never actually caring much if he received anything in return. So, he doesn’t even have much experience being on the receiving end.  
  
But he’s not going to let the lack of knowledge on the subject stop him. He’s going to do this, he’ll swallow down his fears and nervousness and feelings of awkwardness from even _thinking_ of doing something like that and do it. Just for Aoba. Besides, there’s no better way to learn how to do something than by just doing it, right? How hard could it be?  
  
Saying and thinking something is easier than doing it, however, and all sorts of worries and reasons for hesitation come crashing into his mind.  
  
What if Aoba doesn’t like it—what if he _hates_ it? He’s sure Aoba will tell him to stop if he doesn’t like it, and that’s perfectly fine; he’d never make him do something he doesn’t like or isn’t comfortable with.  
  
Or what if it’s too soon to do something like this and it completely destroys this new type relationship they have, or their _entire_ relationship? It took so long for him to just build up the courage to tell Aoba how he feels about him, how he’s felt about him for such a long time, and it made him so happy, thrilled even, when Aoba accepted his feelings and even said he felt the same. However, that was only about a month ago. They’ve had sex a few times since then but… maybe it’s still too soon to try what he wants to do?  
  
His mind is shrouded in “what ifs” and reasons he shouldn’t go through with it, making him question and doubt his decision, making him consider sticking to his original idea of forgetting he even thought about it in the first place.  
  
His own mind tries to reason with him—he’s not going to know what will happen until he tries, and thinking up all sorts of reasons not to do this isn’t going to do him any good. Because what if Aoba _does_ like it? And if Aoba likes it, he will like doing it for him, because one of his new favorite things is seeing Aoba recklessly squirm and writhe in pleasure from things he does to him—it’s something he never thought he would get to do, and it leaves him breathless every time.  
  
Thinking there’s even a small chance Aoba could like what he wants to try encourages him somewhat and forces some of the bad thoughts away.  
  
That and the fact that Aoba’s hands wound up in his hair at some point, tangling the black strands in his fingers, clutching tightly as if to hold on for dear life. Aoba’s legs have latched themselves tightly around his waist, and he’s acting like he’s trying to pull Koujaku even closer, trying to anchor him to his body, not that there’s much empty space left between them in the first place.  
  
Aoba’s actions set his decision in stone. He is going to try what he wants to do. There’s no going back now.  
  
But their clothes are still obnoxiously in the way. He’ll have to do something about that, and it looks like Aoba’s already started—his hands have left Koujaku’s neck and are now busying themselves with clumsily trying to peel off his own shirt. Koujaku moves to help him, tossing the shirt carelessly to the floor before going for his belt and pants, undoing them quickly before pulling them off and tossing them to join the shirt—  
  
Oh shit. He’s acting too excited now, isn’t he. Where the hell did that come from when he was almost panicking only moments ago? Aoba’s arms wrap around him again, so he must not mind too much. Just in case, he leans in to trail kisses along Aoba’s neck, mumbling a soft but quick apology just under Aoba’s ear. Aoba lets him know it’s fine by trying to push Koujaku’s kimono off his shoulders. It’s probably meant as a silent “just hurry the fuck up” too, which is fine… Koujaku’s fingers work to get the obi off, electing to take off the entire thing and let it join the pile of Aoba’s clothes on the floor, before going back to kissing Aoba’s neck without warning.  
  
“Ah— Koujaku—” spills from his lips as Koujaku moves down his body, leaving a trail of kisses and soft caresses as he goes, snatching a nipple between his lips to flick his tongue over a few times, and more soft breaths and restrained moans pour from his younger lover. Aoba doesn’t seem to have an inkling of what he’s planning to do, not yet at least, and just lets Koujaku carry on with a hand still ensnared in his black hair, gripping it tightly but not enough to hurt. He trails his fingers down Aoba’s skin, raising goosebumps along the way, and Aoba arches toward him, pressing into him, as his tongue swirls slowly around the nipple. As his fingers slide across Aoba’s stomach, he relishes in the warmth of his skin—it’s gotten so hot, feverish, and he can’t help admiring how cute that is, and that it’s gotten that way because of him.  
  
Finally, he pulls his mouth away just as his fingers reach Aoba’s cock, still covered by his underwear, and he brushes them over it, moving along it at a teasingly slow pace, before rubbing it with his palm. Aoba squirms at the touch and Koujaku can’t tell if he’s trying to pull away from his hand or press into it. He caresses it gently, feeling its shape, noting just how hard it is, how it’s straining against the fabric, and he subconsciously licks his lips, eyeing it, just as Aoba’s hand falls from his dark hair to cover his own mouth, trying to prevent the sounds from spilling out.  
  
“K-Koujaku— Just—” and hearing that makes a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.  
  
“‘Just’ what, Aoba?” his eyes, holding an almost predatory look within them, shift to look directly into Aoba’s eyes, causing Aoba’s skin to become even hotter—he didn’t think that was even possible.  
  
“Just…” he wiggles his hips a bit when Koujaku’s hand stops moving, trying to bring back the friction, “come on…” his voice is muffled and barely audible, shy with a slight hint of begging, but Koujaku hears him regardless. He considers teasing him a little more, but decides against it when Aoba’s timidly trying to remove his own underwear with one hand while the other remains stubbornly at his mouth.  
  
There’s no time like the present…  
  
But, of course, seeing Aoba lying before him like that brings the nerves back to torment him—of course they’d come back just as he’s getting ready to…— But he’ll push them aside, he already told himself that he’s doing this. He just hopes it winds up being something Aoba likes.  
  
Even if he won’t have the slightest clue what he’s doing.  
  
He tugs at Aoba’s underwear, helping him take them off, and letting them join the pile of clothes on the floor. Aoba’s hands sheepishly reach for Koujaku’s pants, but he stops them by gently grasping his wrists, earning him a questioning stare and a look of pure confusion.  
  
“Just… wait…” He tears his gaze away from Aoba’s face, turning his head to the side—suddenly, his own face is heating up.  
  
“Koujaku—”  
  
“I want to try something…” his heart is racing, and the teasing tone is gone now, and in it’s place is a completely genuine and shy one. For some reason, he can’t stop staring at Aoba’s dick—it’s not like it’s the first time he’s seeing it, so why is it making him feel so nervous right now? Aoba makes a soft sound of confusion and it pulls Koujaku from his abnormal daze, opening his mouth to say something, but Koujaku cuts him off. “Just… let me do this…” and Aoba closes his mouth again and gives a hesitant nod instead.  
  
Almost clumsily, his fingers wrap around Aoba’s cock, and he slowly leans his face toward it—his face is so hot it feels like it could actually melt off at any second. Aoba seems to have caught on to what he has planned, and he wiggles his hips like he’s trying to pull away and disappear into the futon somehow.  
  
“K-Koujaku! W-wait— What are you—” any other words that wanted to come out are lost as Koujaku presses his tongue firmly to his cock—it’s so hot against his tongue and it sends shivers of anticipation up and down his spine—and licks up the entire length, from root to tip, at a slow drag. “K-Kou—”  
  
What the fuck is he doing?  
  
Light, uncertain kisses are peppered along the side of Aoba’s dick, he can feel the heat emanating from Aoba’s body (Aoba can probably feel all the heat coming from him as well) and he notices the younger man has a tight fistful of sheets now. After one, long, sucking kiss on the leaking tip, Koujaku pulls away slightly, shifting just enough to look up at Aoba’s face.  
  
“Does it feel good…?”  
  
Aoba furrows his eyebrows and throws his head to the side. “D-don’t… start that—”  
  
“No, I—” he swallows hard, his courage slowly slipping away through his fingers, “I’m actually asking… because I want to know if you’re ok with this?” he meant to keep his voice strong, but, at some point, he lost it and it started to shake.  
  
“What do you think…?” Aoba mutters, and it looks like he’s trying to bury his face into the pillow or disappear into his own hair, spread wildly around his head, his body is tense and he’s still holding the sheets in a death grip.  
  
“Aoba, I promise I’m not trying to tease you—”  
  
“I would’ve told you to stop if it wasn’t ok,” he whispers, his hand quickly moving back to press against his mouth. “So… just—” And Koujaku’s eyes are widening.  
  
Aoba said he’s fine with this. He can keep going. All the worries frantically crashing around in his mind were groundless and he’s so relieved.  
  
After pressing a quick kiss to the dripping tip, he licks over it once, twice, almost like he would a sweet, before wrapping his lips around the head, sucking it lightly, and then sliding them back off—he still has no idea what he’s doing, truthfully, he’s just making it up as he goes along and silently hoping Aoba thinks it feels at least a little good. Seeing Aoba’s shivers and the precum gathering at the tip of Aoba’s cock is pretty encouraging though—his actions must be acceptable at the very least.  
  
He lowers his mouth to Aoba’s dick again, less anxious than before, and his fingers are stroking it just enough to tease and keep his hand where it is just as Aoba’s shaky fingers are finding their way into his hair, and he slips his lips around it again, sucking it in a little further this time. Aoba’s thighs tremble and the grip he has on Koujaku’s hair tightens, it’s a little painful but, at the same time, it feels so good—he’s always taken pleasure in a little hair-pulling anyway—as his cock slides even further into Koujaku’s warm mouth. One hard suck earns him a whimper, louder than Aoba intended probably, and a light tug on his hair, which causes him to let out a soft moan of his own. He pulls away slowly, making an embarrassingly loud and wet smacking sound as his lips slide all the way off, and he cranes his head just enough to look up at Aoba’s face through half-lidded eyes—it’s obvious Aoba’s trying to avoid meeting his lustful gaze.  
  
“Aoba…” his voice is a low and even rumble, doing this has him so wound up it’s unreal, but he’s going to push it even further. “Does it feel good?” he breathes, and a soft, slightly muted groan falling from Aoba’s mouth is his only response. “Aoba,” he tries again, moving his lips close to Aoba’s erection again, wanting him to be able to feel his breath as he speaks, “Do you like it—am I making you feel good?”  
  
This time, he _is_ just trying to tease.  
  
“D-don’t say things like that—”  
  
“Do you want me to keep going?” He places a hot kiss to Aoba’s length, letting his tongue slip out to flick against it—he’s feeling much more comfortable now. “You taste really good, so I’d be more than happy to keep going like this—”  
  
“Y-y-you—” he stammers, his face is so red, he’s got to be feeling lightheaded because of it (he’s acting like he’s utterly pissed off and mortified, which he probably actually is, but that’s not all he’s feeling, Koujaku can tell by the way Aoba’s wiggling his hips like he’s trying to ask for more without actually having to open his mouth and _ask_ for it), “fucking _hipp_ —” but before he can finish, Koujaku is slipping his lips back onto him, giving a hard suck, coaxing out a loud “ah” that destroys the word before it can fully leave Aoba’s mouth.  
  
Aoba’s always, always getting so flustered, and it’s not even a difficult task to get him to that point, not for Koujaku. It’s something he’s come to adore about him.  
  
Saliva coats Aoba’s length as he starts to move his head back and forth slowly, eventually building up a fairly even rhythm, swallowing down every droplet of precum that slides down the shaft. It all feels so… dirty, he feels so lewd, but he’s actually really enjoying doing it. Aoba’s panting softly, trying unsuccessfully to hold the sounds in while his fingers are busying themselves in Koujaku’s hair, not really with any sort of purpose other than to hold on to something, inelegantly caressing his skull, tangling with the strands and occasionally giving them a light tug.  
  
Just doing this for Aoba is enough to satisfy Koujaku, but receiving signs that Aoba likes what he’s doing to him…  
  
It’s making him so hard it hurts.  
  
“K-Koujaku…! Ngh— I-I’m gonna—” Aoba’s voice comes out as a whine, almost a sob, and his words bring panic crashing back into Koujaku’s mind.  
  
He didn’t think about this part.  
  
What is he supposed to do now?  
  
Should he pull his mouth off? Should he keep going until he makes Aoba come? Thinking about it, he wouldn’t really mind Aoba coming in his mouth, he’d drink it all down without a single thought (and, fuck, thinking that is so embarrassing—he hopes Aoba can’t see his face because it’s burning up even more, growing even redder than it already was). But he’s starting to feel really uncomfortable in a physical sense. What he’s doing has him really riled up—his cock is aching, straining against his pants and begging for relief, he really wants to bury it deep within Aoba now, feel his warmth, feel his body shudder around him, and get as close as possible to him.  
  
Both options sound really appealing, in all honesty. For a split second, he considers asking Aoba which he’d prefer, but he knows doing that won’t help him at all—“Don’t ask something like that!” is most likely the only response he’d get—besides, after the things he said earlier, asking something like that now is bound to make Aoba just tell him to stop _everything_ and leave both of them unsatisfied. So, for now…  
  
He slides his mouth off Aoba’s dick, intentionally dragging his tongue slowly along the underside along the way, licking across the slit one last time to lap up the precum that has gathered there and pull out a few more shivers and hushed whimpers. He steals a quick glance at Aoba’s face—he can’t decide if the younger man looks relieved or disappointed to be freed from Koujaku’s mouth—before reaching for the lube, pouring a generous amount into his hand, setting it back down afterward. His slick fingers slide against Aoba’s hole, and it seems like he’s arching into the touch, impatient, making Koujaku smile even though he’s feeling impatient too.  
  
He decides to skip teasing Aoba some more for now, and quickly swipes his fingers over the tight and puckering ring of muscle, making sure to coat it completely, before starting the slow slide of one finger into the warm hole. It’s so hot inside, and his walls are sinfully tight, contracting around his finger, and just the feeling of it is enough to pull a low groan from his throat—it’s still difficult to believe he’s even allowed to do this, to touch Aoba so intimately. Aoba bucks his hips, trying to get him to push it deeper, trying to get him to hurry up, his hands have found their way to Koujaku’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin—not that he minds, if anything, it’s spurring him on, compelling him to give his lover whatever he needs, whatever he wants. Another finger soon slips in alongside the first, and both are thrusting and twisting around and scissoring apart. Normally, he’d continue to tease Aoba while doing this, he’d press in and curl his fingers to rub against that spot that drives Aoba wild, but the constant aching throb in his own groin is forcing him to skip that (much to his displeasure).  
  
He doesn’t like to hurry, not with Aoba, but this time he’ll have to.  
  
While he’s working to open Aoba up, one hand trails down from Koujaku’s shoulder, fingers gliding across his chest, down his stomach to undo his pants, a task they were stopped from doing earlier. This time, he doesn’t stop them, but he releases a low grunt as they brush against his dick, pulling it out to curl around it and stroke it lightly, somewhat awkwardly. It’s not exactly an unwelcome action, so he doesn’t take any sort of action to try to stop him, it’s just…  
  
Even though he’s grown comfortable with touching Aoba, he still gets a little uncomfortable when Aoba tries to do the same for him.  
  
He doesn’t need Aoba to touch him—he doesn’t need Aoba to do anything but let what he’s doing to him feel good. That’s enough to make him happy. Even now, he still just likes to give; it doesn’t matter if he receives anything back, but it’s obvious that Aoba doesn’t agree with his way of thinking, he’s learned that much.  
  
He leans in and kisses up Aoba’s neck, eventually making his way to his lips, licking over them, lovingly devouring them with his mouth, trying to distract himself, trying to keep his body from tensing up at Aoba’s touches. “Aoba,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the younger man’s, “I want to be…” he pauses for a moment to quickly let himself indulge in Aoba’s mouth again, to play with his tongue, “…inside you now…” The words seem to knock all the air from Aoba’s lungs, coming out with a faint and coy “ah.” But he gives a quick nod and a hum of consent, and Koujaku moves in to kiss his neck again.  
  
There’s a slight squelching sound when he carefully pulls his fingers out, and it makes Aoba shudder, embarrassed and obviously bothered by the sound, and Koujaku tries to comfort him by bringing his hand to Aoba’s hip, rubbing slow circles onto his hipbone with his thumb. The lube is in his hand again and Aoba lets out a groan, wiggling his hips somewhat invitingly, obviously getting impatient. Koujaku chokes out “Just be patient for a little longer—” as he quickly lubes himself up, being extra cautious just in case. Koujaku swallows hard and positions himself to aim his cock at Aoba‘s entrance, pressing just enough for there to be pressure but not enough to actually press inside.  
  
And now it’s time for the nerves to kick back in.  
  
It’s not like it’s their first time together, or the second, or the third—they’ve done this several times by now, but it doesn’t matter. He still gets unbelievably nervous when they reach this point, even today after he somehow managed to build up just enough courage to try pleasuring Aoba with his mouth—it was just an ounce of courage though and it’s long gone by now, it slipped through his fingers in an instant and he has no choice but to try to pick the pieces back up and stitch them together.  
  
He always worries this part will hurt Aoba, despite the constant reassurance from the blue-haired male that it’s fine and he’s not fragile—once, he even got Aoba to admit that he likes doing this with him, which was enough to ease his fears but not enough to erase them completely. Even when he spends a ridiculous amount of time on meticulous preparation, using far more than enough lube, the worry that he’ll hurt the person who means everything to him still surfaces to torment him.  
  
So far, he’s always managed to pull through, it usually takes a bit of encouragement from Aoba, but it happens all the same.  
  
Maybe it’s silly to worry about it so much, but he can’t stop himself from doing it.  
  
With a deep breath, he steels himself, and there’s a soft, encouraging utterance of his name from Aoba, like he knows what sort of thoughts are fluttering around Koujaku’s head without even asking. It’s just enough to empower him, and, slowly, he starts to press inside.  
  
It’s a slow, tantalizing task, and it takes all of his strength to ignore how hot and slick and tight and wonderful Aoba’s body is as he takes him in, contracting around him and making him feel like he won’t be able to hold on for much longer. And the smaller man is panting and wrapping his arms around him so tightly, bringing his legs back up to wrap around his waist, squeezing with his thighs, like he’s trying to do everything he can to bring Koujaku as close to him as possible. Koujaku gives him what he wants, embracing him just as tightly—he could never deny Aoba anything, especially closeness. Once he’s fully encased within, he roughly releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in, and then holds completely still.  
  
His hand finds its way into Aoba’s hair, petting through it so carefully, “Does it hurt?” he breathes just next to the other’s ear. Even now, with the need for release clinging to him madly, it’s something he can’t help asking, always needing to make sure Aoba isn’t too uncomfortable.  
  
Just like always, Aoba shakes his head, replying with a strained, “It’s fine…”  
  
And that’s all he needs.  
  
He starts moving, thrusting shallowly at first, eventually building up to rougher and deeper thrusts. And soon, Aoba’s panting and trembling and clawing at his neck, trying his hardest to rock into his movements to increase the friction. Koujaku lets him, and takes pleasure in his heat, his scent, the very slightly muted sounds escaping through his nose and mouth, and lets himself fall into the dreamlike haze that always comes with doing this with Aoba.  
  
It’s still so hard for him to believe that it’s real, that Aoba is actually here with him, letting him touch him, letting him hold him, letting him do basically whatever he wants with him. It’s so surreal, so hard to wrap his head around, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.  
  
His mouth finds its way to Aoba’s neck, kissing and licking and sucking the skin—he’s trying to not leave a mark, but it’s so hard not to—he really wants to mark him up, paint his skin with proof of his love, but he can’t, not there at least. He tears away from Aoba’s neck and trails kisses along his jaw line, his chin, biting at his bottom lip before licking over it and sealing his mouth over Aoba’s, settling for playing with his tongue instead. Each thrust sends electricity up his spine, and Aoba’s letting out soft breathy cries each time he presses in, and he takes them all in and swallows them down.  
  
But he needs to pick up the pace—he can’t hold on for much longer, especially because of how this round of lovemaking started out, and he knows the same is probably true for Aoba too.  
  
His fingertips glide down Aoba’s neck, across his chest, his stomach, and stop to curl around his leaking cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. Aoba’s mouth breaks away from his own, leaving a thin string of saliva to connect them.  
  
By now, he’s pounding into Aoba so hard it’s making his smaller body jerk against the futon, bringing the concerns of hurting him bubbling back to his mind. Aoba’s still clinging to him, still panting and moaning and failing to completely hold in his beautiful voice, and still moving against him the best he can, eyes squeezed shut and mouth ajar, so it must still be fine—he’d say something if it wasn’t, right?  
  
So he keeps going, and his mouth is on Aoba’s neck again, sucking at it, scraping teeth against it, tongue wildly flicking over the skin, tasting him, tasting the salt of sweat, and he just wants to bite down gently, suck a nice bruise into that lovely untainted skin. But he shouldn’t… But he’s too far gone to worry about Aoba telling him off for it, too close to the edge to care about fighting against the desire any longer. Just one will be enough. Before he actually realizes it, he’s got skin between his teeth and he’s sucking on it hard, licking over it immediately afterward, and Aoba’s actually leaning into it.  
  
“Aaah— H-hah— K-Kouja…ku— I’m gonna—”  
  
His free hand moves to touch Aoba’s arm, sliding his fingertips across it; everything he’s feeling, physically, mentally, emotionally, it all mashes together, swirling around and growing stronger and stronger, so much so it’s about to overflow, and he needs Aoba’s hand, but Aoba’s not catching on to it so he has to say something. “Aoba… Ngh— give me your… hand…” Finally, Aoba slides his arm from Koujaku’s neck, letting him lace their fingers together tightly, and he’s clutching onto Aoba’s hand so tight it must hurt, but he’s clutching back just as tightly.  
  
Somehow, he forces himself away, wanting to watch Aoba’s face (and take a little time to admire that nice mark that now adorns his neck—Aoba’s definitely going to yell at him later). It’s just in time to see his eyebrows knit together, eyes squeeze shut even tighter, as a breath tears from his throat.  
  
There it is—that spot where Aoba feels it most.  
  
He aims to hit that spot again and again while his hand works Aoba’s cock faster, more roughly, to push him to the edge. And it works. Traces of pleasant pain arise as Aoba’s fingernails dig into his neck, and he can’t stop himself from sealing his mouth over Aoba’s again to swallow down every sound pouring from his mouth. A hot and sticky substance splatters onto his abdomen as he sucks on Aoba’s tongue, and it almost leads to his own undoing. And then Aoba’s body clenches tightly around his cock and that’s it for him too, the building heat within his lower abdomen overwhelms him. He jerks roughly one last time, tearing away from Aoba’s warm mouth, stilling himself after pressing in as far as possible, and it all spills out with a ragged groan.  
  
They stay like that for a while, both breathing heavily, breaths mingling together, clinging to each other tightly even though it’s gotten so hot and sweaty. It’s just so comfortable. Eventually, Koujaku manages to push himself up off of Aoba, looking down at his face—it’s still bright red and he has a sleepy but satisfied look in his eyes—and he can’t stop the smile that tugs at his mouth.  
  
It’s just so amazing that they do this, it’s absolutely mind-blowing. Aoba’s so wonderful, everything about him is just wonderful, and he can’t help but think about that, especially while feeling effects of a post-coital haze. Somehow, he always winds up feeling thankful that he was even able to meet Aoba all those years ago. He never expected things would end up the way they did, but he knows he’ll treasure every moment he’s able to spend with him for the rest of his life.  
  
He must be staring because a slightly irritated and drowsy sounding “What…?” soon slips from Aoba’s mouth.  
  
“Nothing,” is the soft response that comes before he leans in and kisses Aoba one more time, gently and sweetly, and then he pulls his softening cock out of him carefully. Normally, he’d clean them both up right about now, but there’s an overwhelming desire to get back to embracing Aoba as soon as possible, so he gives into it and flops down next to Aoba, quickly gathering him up in his arms. Aoba lets out a surprised grunt but he doesn’t put up a fight, comfortably curling into Koujaku’s chest, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.  
  
“Hey, Aoba?” he starts, and Aoba shifts slightly, getting more comfortable, giving a light hum in response. “Want to go another round?” and he laughs when Aoba makes a strange sound and smacks his shoulder.  
  
“You—” but he sighs and drops it there.  
  
“I’m just kidding.” His laugh fades away and he swallows hard, the nervousness from before rushing back as his face heats up. “About earlier… what I did…” it’s so hard to get the words to come out, “when I used my—”  
  
“D-don’t say it,” Aoba snaps, his body gradually heating back up. He’s glad Aoba caught on because he probably wouldn’t have been able to finish that sentence anyway.  
  
“W-well… how do I say this…” his face is overheating and it’s making him feel dizzy, “Do you… want me to do it again some time…?” with that, Aoba’s entire body tenses, and he presses his face into Koujaku’s chest. “Because, if you liked it, I… I will…”  
  
“Just— You— Th-that’s—” after sputtering again and again, failing to make anything close to a comprehensible statement, Aoba pulls away, sitting up on his knees and staring at Koujaku with a horrified expression—it would make Koujaku start laughing again if he wasn’t so embarrassed and tense, instead, he just stares back, unblinking, slowly forcing himself to sit up too while waiting for Aoba to say something.  
  
“If… you ever w-wanted to do it again… I wouldn’t mind… too much…” the words are barely audible and not exactly a “yes” but definitely not a “no.” But it’s enough to put Koujaku at ease just a little bit.  
  
He tried something new and it worked out, Aoba liked it, and that’s enough to make him happy.  
  
After a long and awkward silence, both doing nothing but staring at each other like idiots, Aoba suddenly says: “I-I’m gonna go take a bath now,” his embarrassment making the statement a little louder than necessary, before scrambling off the bed. A smile creeps onto Koujaku’s face again as he watches the younger man speedily stomp away towards the bathroom, but it fades away again because he winds up thinking things he shouldn’t again.  
  
What would it be like to _take a bath_ with Aoba?  
  
But that’s definitely not something he’s going to bring up—after how hard it was trying to build up courage to use his mouth on Aoba, no way.  
  
But if _Aoba_ ever wanted to initiate it… he’d definitely be fine with that.  
  
That’s something that’s probably never going to happen though.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading~  
> I’m… really bad at endings…  
> G-goodnight—


End file.
